Catch Me if You Can
by Suzunomiko
Summary: There's a Slytherin theif on the loose, and Harry's got to catch him to retrieve something lost. Another insomniac moment on my part, will continue if prompted. PG for violence on Harry's part toward Draco.


It seemed a relatively normal evening to the students of Hogwarts as they make their way back to their dorms after dinner. The sun had set around five as it was winter, and everyone is cold and very much wish to get back to their common rooms and start the fires so they can sit around and gossip in their warmth until they get bored or tired and have to go to sleep. There was the occasional odd howl from the forbidden forest that startled first years and subsequently caused the other students to snicker in response, but other than that it was a very uneventful evening. There was, however, a slight disturbance in the halls around the courtyard. 

All those who were in those particular hallways found themselves flattening their bodies against the cold stone walls to keep from getting bowled over by the streak of green and black and blonde hurling down the hallway. Draco Malfoy ran so fast that it almost seemed as if he were on his broomstick and not his feet. He clutches something unknown in his hand and struggles to get it into his pocket as he bolts down the corridor, succeeding only when he has to slow down a bit to turn a corner. Despite his gleeful yet frantic expression he hasn't the time to laugh as he picks up speed once again and shoots out of sight of those that stare after him in wonder. But being chased by an enraged Gryffindor will do that to a Slytherin.

Harry Potter, the similarly occupied flash of red and gold and black, chases after Malfoy with the resolve of a seeker after his snitch. He growls as he slowly… oh so slowly, begins to catch up to the other boy. As Malfoy turns a second corner Harry almost catches him… almost. His hand clasps around air instead of the silky blonde hair he had been reaching for and he hit the wall with a 'thud', pausing only to yell out a profanity before leaping once again to the pursuit of the thief.

Those that witnessed this chase couldn't help but get the nagging feeling that something was missing when they saw Harry whiz by them, but shrugged it off at the prospect of spreading the news of the conversation material they had just observed and rush to their dorms to relay the tale.

"Damn it, Malfoy! STOP!"

Malfoy put on an extra burst of adrenaline-induced speed at that, but it was still not enough. Harry was now no less than three feet away from Malfoy, and gaining fast. Malfoy grabs at a pole and uses it to propel himself out of the hall arch and into the courtyard itself, turning at such a speed that he slips on the ice and has to grab onto a nearby student to right himself before sprinting off again.

Harry caught up with him because of that minor delay, and Malfoy makes a gagging sound as his scarf is jerked backward violently, the ends of it clenched tightly in the hands of Gryffindor's golden boy. Harry yanks on it mercilessly, pulling Malfoy into a crushing hold with his right arm and using the other to wring the platinum blonde ponytail painfully.

"Alright, Malfoy… where are they?" he demands, pulling at the hair.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Malfoy sneers, them yelps as his hair is twisted.

"You will tell me where you put them or I will yank your hair right off your head!" he threatens, making a pretty good effort at doing just that directly afterward.

Malfoy groans in pain, but wasn't beat just yet. He wrenches his arm out of the constricting hold of Harry's right arm over his chest and grabs hold of Harry's unruly locks, tugging hard. Harry grunts but doesn't release him, wringing the delicate strands in his own hand with the force he has been holding back until now. Malfoy screams, feeling some of his hair snap and a tear forming in the skin on his neck. Harry didn't stop.

"NOW, Malfoy!" he raged.

"Alright! Let go, Potter!"

Malfoyis flung to the ground, Harry glaring at him. The Slytherin sighs, rubbing at his neck, feeling the warm red liquid seeping from the small injury. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves the pair of glasses he had taken right off Harry's face as he passed him exiting the great hall. Harry snatches them and wipes them on his shirt, then began to walk away from the thief, when he got the feeling something was amiss.

He turned, eyes widening when he saw the smirk adorning the pale face of his rival.

"Loose something, Potter?" he asks, twirling the Phoenix-feather wand between his nimble fingers.

Harry watched, aghast, as Draco stuck the wand into his pocket… and ran.


End file.
